Actually Sick
by Write-To-You
Summary: That one time that Ned's "he's sick" excuse for Peter is actually true. Spideychelle :) (IDK why I bother saying that it's Spideychelle every time I mean it's me obviously it's Spideychelle XD) Re-uploaded because of glitch.


**Author's Note: That time when you are literally sitting in the theatre watching Spider-Man Far From Home and you start writing a fanfiction in your head _as you are still in the theatre_. **

**Creativity is fun XP **

"Mr. Leeds, _where_ is Mr. Parker?"

"Uhhh..." Ned shifted in his seat. "He's sick."

Mr. Harrington rubbed the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up his face. "He's sick," he repeated.

"Uh, yeah." Ned shrugged his shoulders, looking apologetic. "Like, literally puking in the bathroom. You can go see him yourself for proof if you want to."

Michelle, sitting a few seats away from Ned, glanced over and raised an eyebrow. She, of course, knew about Peter's secret identity, as well as his common excuse of being "sick" when he actually went off to fight crime. But Ned saying that he was in the bathroom, if the teacher wanted to see him? That was new. And kind of risky.

Michelle took pause. Could it be possible that Peter was _actually_ sick?

"No, no, that's alright," Mr. Harrington replied quickly, holding up his hands as if to stop any of Peter's wandering germs from reaching him. "Just... tell him to get himself to the nurse."

"Okay," Ned agreed, quickly pulling out his phone and sending a text.

Michelle's eyes squinted suspiciously. Then she grabbed her bag and stood up. Mr. Harrington looked up again. "Where are you going?" he asked blankly as Michelle headed for the door.

"Bathroom," Michelle answered, which was the truth, and walked out. She was fully aware that if she was caught without a hall pass she would be put in detention, but she was usually there anyway just to draw and get work done so she wasn't terribly concerned.

When she reached the bathrooms, she didn't turn into the lady's. Instead, she crossed her fingers that there'd be no boys and walked into the men's room. Michelle hadn't exactly been expecting anything, so she wasn't sure if she was surprised or not to hear the sound of retching coming from one of the stalls.

"Uh... Peter?" she called out hesitantly.

There was a groan, and she walked towards it, nudging open one of the stalls. It wasn't locked, and swung open to reveal an incredibly pale Peter Parker hunched over one of the grimy school toilets.

"Soooo many germs," Michelle cringed, kneeling down to be at his level.

"I know," Peter mumbled. "Trust me- if I could move I wouldn't be here-" Abruptly he broke of and retched into the toilet again.

Michelle reached out and patted the back of his shirt, which was soaked through with sweat. Once Peter stopped coughing she gently leaned him back against her and combed her fingers through his hair. "You're _burning up_, Peter," she told him. "Not, like, literally, but still."

Peter groaned again, leaning into her hand. "I want to go home," he mumbled. "This bathroom is the most disgusting place ever."

"You think you can move?" Michelle asked, sliding her hand the rest of the way through his hair and resting it on his neck. Peter's head fell forward like a limp noodle, but he murmured his ascent.

Slowly, the two of them stood and Michelle helped him out of the bathroom and to the nurse's office. The nurse took one look at Peter, eyebrows raised, and hurried off to get the secretary to call his aunt.

"I'm going to stay here," Michelle told her, unblinking. "Thanks."

The nurse's eyebrows went higher, but she honestly didn't care enough to argue. The day was almost over, anyway.

"You know," Michelle said as they sat quietly together on the cot, Peter curled into a ball with his head on her lap. "When Ned said you were sick I thought you were actually fighting crime."

"Oh?" Peter managed, shifting uncomfortably.

"Yeah." Michelle tipped her head back and rested it against the wall. "But then he told Mr. Harrington that if he wanted he could go see you puking in the bathroom, so I thought he might actually be telling the truth."

"That's gross," Peter mumbled. "I'm kinda glad you came instead."

Michelle snorted. "What, you don't want Mr. Harrington sitting on the floor with you and rubbing your back?" she asked dryly.

"Ewwwwww..." Peter groaned. "Careful, I might puke again just at that thought alone."

Michelle laughed and rested her hand on his hair again. Peter shifted his head a little as she gently pushed her fingers through his curls. "That feels good," he mumbled into her lap. "You can keep doing that if you want."

They sat for fifteen more minutes in the same position, Michelle's hand running through Peter's hair. Michelle's legs were starting to go numb, and she was almost positive Peter was asleep, when Aunt May walked into the nurse's office. "Ohh, Peter," she murmured, hurrying over.

Michelle quickly stopped playing with Peter's hair and put her hand down beside her. "Uhh, hey Mrs. Parker," she greeted.

"May please," Peter's aunt told her immediately, kneeling down in front of them and putting her hand to Peter's forehead. He shifted, groaning a little. "Hi, sweetie," May said softly as Peter opened his eyes. "How're you feeling?"

"Hey, May," Peter mumbled, sitting up slowly. Michelle suddenly felt like an incredibly awkward third wheel who was literally getting leaned on by one of the other wheels. "Like crud."

"Alright, let's get you home," Aunt May murmured, wrapping her arm around Peter's shoulders and helping him stand. She turned back to Michelle. "Thank you," she told her seriously. "I really do appreciate you taking care of him."

Michelle shrugged like the awkward dork she was. "It's cool," she muttered, getting to her feet and stuffing her hands in her pockets. Her leg was tingling all over, still partly asleep from the weight of Peter's head. "Uhhh... text me later?" she called after Peter as an afterthought.

Peter seemed to suddenly remember she was there and turned around. "Yeah, yeah, of course," he said, nodding. "Uh... have a good rest of your day. Thanks for, um, rubbing my head..?"

Michelle turned red and quickly glanced over at Aunt May. "Way to make it weird, Peter," she mumbled.

"Yeah, way to make it weird, Peter," May agreed, snorting slightly with laughter. Michelle was unable to resist a smile as Peter stuck his tongue out at his aunt. "We'll blame it on the fever for now," she continued. "Let's go home."

**Author's Note: You know, for a sick!fic I actually wrote that really fast and all in one go. CREATIVITY IS FUN :D**


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